


Charming, Beastly, and Amoral

by Secret_G (Secret_H)



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Cinderella - All Media Types, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Retellings, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_H/pseuds/Secret_G
Summary: Estella had spent most of the last decade constantly busy, constantly on the go, but never getting anywhere. As her 25th birth date drew nearer, things seemed to be moving forward, looking up even.They say life is what happens while you're making other plans. They're not wrong, but it's hard not to be surprised when you suddenly get punched in the face.





	1. Your Sudden and Mysterious Benefactor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to update the warnings and tags by chapter, but if you've read anything that I've written, you can probably guess where this is going. The rating is definitely going to go up.
> 
> This entire story was based around one scene, or rather the build up to one scene, the last one, theoretically, so expect a somewhat abrupt ending.

It was an unspoken, yet zealous belief that a royal bloodline should never hold magic. There should never be any doubt that the one sitting on the throne was purely human. In theory, every ruling family could trace their bloodline back a thousand years, whether they had been in power then or not.  It should show neither fairy nor monster, demon nor god. On occasion, a wizard or witch might appear out of the ether, a throwback to blood far beyond what would be recorded, but they could not rule. There was no such thing as divine right. The closest history had ever gotten to such an idea was the line of Pendragons in the north, before they had been bred out, and even that line’s “magic” had come in the shape of a sword that had surmounted to something as benign as a paternity test.      

The Charming bloodline had never held any magic. In the eyes of their subjects, this was still an irrevocable fact. While King Adam and his kingdom had been cursed into obscurity for twenty years, as far as the rest of the kingdoms were concerned, the curse had been broken, so that was the end of it.  They were welcomed back, along with the boom in the economy they brought with them. To be sure, it was not unusual for kingdoms to reappear into the history of the world after disappearing for even a hundred years.   

But magic had a way a sinking into the bones and blood, especially when administered young and certainly when used with the intention of permanence. When Princess Belle had managed to save the kingdom from their fate, the last rose petal was already falling, and magic is tricky business.     

 Prince Henri Charming was not a mage. He was not a wizard, nor a sorcerer, nor a changeling, nor a beast of any discernable sort. And yet…he had magic. And his magic was not something that aligned with anything human. But then he was, to his mother’s worry and his father’s secret pride, only mostly human.     

Henri himself never questioned his differences. He didn’t mind keeping his magical abilities a secret; it only allowed him an advantage. He took to hiding the differences in his physiology with ease; most of them were not apparent to the outside observer, and if his eye’s flashed in anger, or his smiles were more akin to bearing of teeth, it was useful for a King to be intimidating.      

In all honesty, Henri loved his differences and embraced them the same way he embraced his love of reading and learning, gardening and experimentation. By the time he was in his late teens, he had taught himself to use his abilities, magical and physical, well. He was self-aware: knew his strengths, weaknesses, and proclivities. He continued to grow into a man who would become a great king.      

He was also as beautiful as his mother, though with a masculinity that could not be denied. It brought into question what attracted people to him more, his looks or his position. Perhaps it was even his personality, for he was well-learned and quite charismatic, if more intense than most knew how to deal with. And after years of speculation, hemming, hawing, and arguing, he had finally announced that he was ready to marry. More than that, he was throwing a week-long ball and festival with the intention of meeting his future bride.     

Everyone who was anyone had shown up, or at the very least sent a representative. Kingdoms had sent their princesses, bakers had sent their daughters, and lords had sent their sons, though more likely in hopes of them finding their own wives than anything. Henri was willing to keep an open mind. After all, the last King Arthur had been willing to let his line die to marry his male, court wizard, and Henri wasn’t looking for anything in particular himself. He would let his instincts guide him as they always had, plus he had the situation well fixed in his favor.     

Prince Charming looked down from his tower at the thousands of guests milling about the grounds, unable to all fit in the ballroom or even the courtyard. He bared his too sharp teeth, his eyes slitting vertically into the gaze of a predator; this would be a good hunt.     

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Estella never forgot her name, even after almost ten years of not having heard it from anyone but herself. It had been so long that even the oldest of the house servants still in the manor had grown comfortable referring to her as Cinderella. She was twenty-four going on twenty-five now, less than two weeks away from being able to access her irrevocable trust and leave this blasted house. It made her sad to think of the place where she had grown free and loved negatively, but it was poisoned to her now. Just like the memory of her father, who she cursed on her worst days for marrying the bane of her existence, before dying and leaving her.  Just like the very idea of family.     

Then again, Estella did not truly consider the invaders her family. As far as she was concerned, she was an orphan living off the ill-offered grace of the most distant of relatives. Never mind her step-mother's insistence that she call her just that. “Clean my room, Cinderella.” "Yes, Step-Mother.” “Weed the garden, Cinderella.” “Yes, Step-Mother.” “Sweep up the ashes, Cinderella.” “Yes, Step-Mother.”    

The sisters, on the other hand, were only to be addressed as such when Step-Mother was in hearing distance. Estella had more than once made the mistake of addressing Drizella as “sister” out of habit over the years and found herself slapped immediately or later punished for the “slight”. Anastasia was the most bearable of the lot, and she mostly ignored Estella’s existence when she wasn’t pointedly following Drizella’s example.    

Estella had spent the years keeping her head down, both managing and physically taking care of the manor’s upkeep. She stayed out of the way. She made sure to never turn in any work to the family tutor that was better than the sisters. She made sure so never dress better than them, even when they went out to public functions and she gained access to clothes good enough to not draw unsavory looks. Not that she didn’t always attract some kind of attention when she was allowed to parties.   

If it wasn’t because she was clearly past marrying age, then it was because of her looks themselves. Estella took after her mother, and so she looked different than almost every person in the kingdom. Her skin was not just a tan brown, but of a completely different pallet than those she shared a house with. Her hair was grey, long and thick with curls that took hours to wash, dry, and comb through; she had to keep it braided and in a bun most times to get it out of the way. Her eyes were too big, too green, and slanted down.    

Every time Estella went anywhere that wasn’t in their town, people were shocked anew to see her, and the worst part was that she had little idea where her mother was from or how her father had come upon her. She had never heard the story of how her parents met, or anything regarding life before she was born.    

She doesn’t remember if her mother had ever spoken of it before she died, but her father never spoke of her mother again, period. He ran away from the memories of his beloved wife, going so far as that when he chose to remarry to have a woman in his daughter’s life, he went as far in the opposite direction as possible. Shapeless where once there were curves, with black hair just as bone straight, the new Lady Tremaine’s eyes were just as dark as most of the citizens in the kingdom, her lips just as red, and words thrice as cruel where once there was a woman twice as kind. The lady was fair enough, though less so compared to someone like say, her Majesty Princess Belle.    

(Technically as the princess consort to the king, she was only required a Your Highness, but everyone called her your Majesty, because her beauty was absolute, and also because she basically ran the country).     

Even Estella, who knew little of the court or politics, knew what the princess looked like. She did handle the household, and thus the money, and the only coin that didn’t hold her Majesty’s visage was the 10 piece that showed the profile of the old queen, once called Snow White, mother of King Adam.   

Still, Estella was fairly removed from the world of the court, spending most of her little free time in the forest running with the deer, at the public library, or at the bank, telling her broker what investments to make with her trust’s interest. When the news broke about the prince’s ball, she happened to be in the forest, and so was one of the last in the Kingdom to hear about it.    

But after she did, for a split second, she was just as excited as everyone else. Then the reality of her situation came back to her.    

"Of course you won't be going, Cinderella. This ball is to help the prince find a wife, and he would never choose you, so there would be no point." Lady Tremaine explained simply, hardly invested in her own spite.    

They were all hovering in the sitting room after dinner, Estella diligently stoking the fire as her step-mother listened to the excited shrieks and chatter of her daughters. Estella was just as uninterested, unsure why the woman had even brought the possibility up. It's not as though she had thought otherwise, she had not even bothered to ask.   

Drizella paused in her description of the dress she wanted, to croon smugly. "Of course, she can't go. She's going to be busy ever day cleaning and modify in our dresses. We can hardly go in the same exact outfit every evening."   

She giggled and looked to Anastasia, inviting her to join in on the heckling. Anastasia looked surprised to be included. Estella's mind had already moved away from the conversation to the worry that maybe she should have been listening to the sisters’ dress requests after all? They really needed to make it clearer when they are addressing her.   

"Oh, um..." Anastasia's eyes darted around the room, looking for something callous to say. "Yes, no doubt the prince will be struck by a beauty on the first night and have already chosen his wife by the second...um, the rest of the festival is just for fun, which you will also miss, the only one in the kingdom who won’t be there at least one night... And yes, well it’s not as if you have anything nice to wear any way."    

Anastasia finished her ramble with a firm nod, and looked to her sister, who was frowning at her. Their mother, was now looking pensive.   

"She would be the only one in the kingdom not to show up, wouldn't she?" The lady hovered over that thought, turned it around in her mind. "It would hardly reflect well on me to not even put in the token effort to get my spinster step-daughter married."   

The room stilled.    

It was quiet except for the crackling if the fire. Estella kept her face turned away, biting her lip in uncertain anticipation.    

"Mother, no!" Drizella cried out in dismay. She turned to glare at her ditzy sister. "Really, Ana."   

"Oh, um. Well, I'm sure there are plenty of working class people who won't be able to make it?" Anastasia suggested with a chagrined shrug.    

"No woman in my custody will be said to be on the same level as a peasant," The lady stated sharply, before her eyes slid to the back of Estella's head. "No matter how true it may be."   

The lady stood abruptly, her daughters scrabbling up after her, and strode to the door. She stopped at in the doorway, her hand on the knob, standing there in contemplation. Estella never looked away from the fire, simply banking it to a smolder as she awaited the step-mother's final decision.   

"You will attend the ball on the last day. You will stay by my side for the first hour, and then I will expect you to dance with at least three gentlemen before you return home early. I expect you to be back in that carriage at the first stroke of midnight. You will rest the horses for an hour before sending the driver back to us. Is that understood, Cinderella?"   

Estella kept her trembling lips from curling into a smile. "Yes, Step-Mother."   

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................

The next day, Estella began her work on the sisters' dresses. She found all of her time sucked up by the process, even forced to browbeat the gardener into actually doing his job, instead of letting her handle the family's famous century roses. She would really rather have done it herself, it being one of the chores that she actually enjoyed, but she couldn't feel bad about it.    

She was going to the ball. Yes, it was on the last day, where it would inevitably be winding down with the prince having chosen if not his wife, then the woman that he wanted to court, but there would be people dressed up to the nine, food that she would never get the opportunity to taste again, music that she had never heard before, and the excitement of not just some boring, court party, but a royally funded festival. She would even get to choose her own dance partners. And the last day was on her birthday. It might as well be the last great send off to her years of servitude. Not that she would be leaving immediately, she had to get her affairs in order, but the serendipity of the arrangement could not be denied. Things were looking up.   

Yes, Estella was quite happy to see the step-family off on that first night, looking more cuttingly beautiful than ever before. Maybe not enough to acquire a prince, but certainly enough to garner some serious male attention. Closing the front door, she chuckled at the thought of the poor unfortunate souls who might fall for the sisters' "charms".   

She allowed herself to relax, having already darned the dresses for the next day, and went to sit in the garden for a bit.    

This was turning into one of the better weeks of her life, so it was quite a surprise when a fairy godmother showed up out of nowhere. Estella was surprised right off her off her bench and into a rose bush. She swore: "Younger gods!!!"   

She was caught between jumping out of the thorny bush, and curling away from the cacophony of light and sound like the world’s most uncoordinated orchestra buffeting her, when as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Estella hesitantly opened her eyes.   

There was a fairy in her garden.    

Not only that, but it had noisily announced itself in a way that made it clear that it wanted to make its presences known. Estella was the only person in the garden at this point. It had to be here for her, but why? She was quite sure that she had never done anything that could possibly attract the attention of the fae. There were no brownies in the manor despite its size, no pixies in the garden despite its bounty. Or maybe that was the problem.   

Estella automatically fell back into her reflex of making herself as small as possible. The fairy seemed to have been distracted by the flowers and setting sun, so she struggled out of the rose bush, pulling away from the thorns clawing at her woolly, old dress. Once free, she did not stand completely, instead slowly creeping her way out of the garden, half way crawling on the tips of her toes and fingers.    

"HEY!" The fairy whipped around all at once, and Estella could actually feel the weight of its gaze as she froze less than a foot away from the gate. "It's polite to greet a guest when they arrive at your home."    

Estella drew herself up slowly, nonchalantly. She took a moment to brush off her dress as she tried to force her face into an expression that was not utter horror. Turning around, she clasped her hands in front of her, smiling as congenially as possible. "Why hello? I didn't see you there. The light that signaled your arrival was quite bright and disorienting. What ever can I do for you?"    

"Hmph." The fairy looked at Estella in mild suspicion, before deciding to take her on her word. "The question is in fact: what can this one do for you?"    

Estella’s smile grew brittle. "Um, I'm actually doing pretty well, so –"    

"THE ANSWER," the fairy interrupted her pointedly. "Is that this one can fulfill your deepest desire."   

Estella knew better than accept gift from strangers, much less fairies, much, much less strange fairies. "And why would you do anything for me?"    

The fairy seemed thrown off, before it puffed its chest out. It said haughtily, "This one is a fairy-godmother. It is this one's job to give this one's charge their happily ever after."   

Since when did Estella have a fairy-godmother? It seemed like something that she would have found mentioned in her father's notes, along with the trust and cottage being held in her name. Maybe her mother had arranged for it, or perhaps the fairy was on retainer for that side of the family, but then where had it been this entire time?   

"You can bring my parents back to life?" Estella tested.   

"Pardon?" The fairy asked, puzzled.   

On second thought, Estella figured, that fairies probably had little jurisdiction over life or death. "You can make it so that my father never married Step-Mother?"   

"This- well, this one works mostly prospectively." The fairy hedged.    

"Are you at least here to punish my step-family for their cruelty, and get the deed to the manor and main accounts in my name?" Estella threw out, exasperated.   

The fairy put its hands on its hips, and puffed its cheeks out in a decidedly impossible way. Tossing its long, bright-red hair in agitation, it poofed suddenly from the other end of the garden, to standing right in front of Estella in a burst of horn, maybe a trumpet. The young woman stumbled back, flinching away from the sound and accompanying light. When she opened her eyes, she was looking up at the fairy in its gaudy, puffed dress, standing at least two feet higher than her 5'3". It was glaring down at her, with oscillating rainbow eyes. "We can worry about that later. This one is here to get you all dressed up and to the prince's ball in style."   

Estella's face fell, and then flattened in pure incredulity. She managed to keep most of the disdain out of her voice when she asked. "Are you sure that you're my fairy-godmother?"   

"Bah!" The fairy exclaimed in dismissal, doing a brushing motion with her wand hand that set off sparks. "This one is a fairy-godmother that is good at the job they were brought into existence for. If this one says that attending the ball will change your life, then this one will not hear otherwise from a tiny human that experiences time linearly."    

How rude, Estella noted, dodging the dangerous looking sparkles. "I'll have you know, Fairy-Godmother, that I will already be attending the festival on the last day, so –"   

"BAH!" The fairy exclaimed even louder in contempt. "One day out of seven. Not even three, it is nothing. And what man could you capture in one night, after all the best are taken?"   

Estella leaned away from the vehement fairy, frowning. "I'm not looking for a man."   

The fairy froze, body unnervingly still as a dismayed expression washed over its face. "You are...looking for a woman?"   

"No. What?" It was clear that Estella had not lucked out in the fairy department. "I am not interested in anybody. I plan to continue my eminent career as a spinster, after adding hermit to my resume."   

"Oh." The fairy relaxed in relief. "Well, that is neither here nor there. You will be going to this ball, if this one has to poof you there this one’s self."    

Estella could not hold back her cringe at the thought of that sort of travel. "I can't just show up. Even if I don't run into my step-mother, I rather stand out. Someone will recognize me and she will know that I was there."   

The fairy puzzled over this as it waved its wand absently, apparently deciding that the argument was won. A stream of light flew out of the tip more quickly than Estella could react and hit her in the chest before exploding. When Estella managed to blink the spots out of her eye, she was in a beautiful, rich, and surprisingly understated dress. Estella marveled at absence of a crinoline cage, considering how big the skirt was. There was so much cloth, but it was so light and fluffy. The dress was textured velvet and the deep color of a red rose. It was, in fact, themed to roses, from the embroidery of the lace sleeves and chest to the patterns of the torso to the particular folds of the skirt. It honestly seemed a little on the nose considering the history of the kingdom.   

"Aha!" The fairy drew itself up, looking too smug. "This one impresses this one's own self at times."   

The next wand movement was made with more deliberation. The fairy was intent as it flicked the tip of the wand into its own palm. Unlike the previous iterations of magic, there was burst of darkness, a deadening of sound, and just like that, a mask was conjured into being.   

It was a mask.   

It was...a mask.   

Estella tried to think of more words to describe it, but the harder she looked, the less certain she was that it was a mask. Except there was a "voice" in her head that was very insistent about the inherent mask-ness of the mask. Except that the "voice" also insisted that she stopped noticing it...and now she was getting a headache.     

"None of that now." The fairy's voice drew her gaze away from the mask. It was frowning again. Fairies were very mercurial in their moods. "That level of awareness is quite unnecessary. How do you expect to live your life if you cannot simply accept things as they are?"   

Aren't you the one forcing me to go the festival despite my resignation to my circumstances? Estella didn't ask. "What exactly is that for?"   

"It is for you, obviously." The fairy nodded firmly. "Put this mask on and you will never be recognized. A human wouldn't be able to describe your features if they were staring right at you. More to the point, they will forget everything that they saw the minute their eyes left you."   

"So, people are going to forget me every time they stop looking at me?" Estella reached out and took the mask with renewed interest. "That doesn't exactly seem conductive to finding a beau. Or having a conversation."   

"No, you silly girl." The fairy rolled its eyes, and Estella quickly averted hers, nauseated. "They will lose all conscious memory of your appearance, unless they are looking directly at you and your identity in their minds will be that of mask. There will be no connection to the girl standing in front of me and the woman attending the ball."   

"I don't know..." Estella decided to ignore the slight. "What if the mask falls off?"   

"It will not." The fairy said, flatly.   

"Well, what if I have to take it off for some reason?" Estella asked stubbornly. The fairy grimaced in agitation, bringing its wand up in a jerky movement.   

"Pick two colors." It gritted out.   

"Black and blue." Estella replied immediately. "Wait-"   

"Morbid." The fairy brought its hand down, and booped Estella on the nose. Luckily, she reflexively closed her eyes in a flinch.   

When she opened them, Estella could see that the strands of her hair not currently piled on top of her head in an impossibly elaborate style were now jet black. Her eyes no doubt some shade of blue. She almost wanted to find a mirror, but the fairy is taking the mask from her hands and jamming it onto her face. It fit perfectly, to the point that she could barely feel it. It also sticks without any evident mechanism.   

The fairy was apparently done talking, swirling its wand around to the point that Estella haplessly concluded that magic was also keeping anyone from running to see what was happening.   

When it all dies down, Estella realized that the sun had finished setting, and now the moon was the main source of light, waxing near to completion.   

Outside the gate that she had failed to escape to, there was a giant, somewhat ill-conceived, three horse carriage. It looked like the type that only the richest noble would splurge on it, with each horse harnessed to it possible costing just as much as the structure itself.    

A "man" stepped of the front seat, the driver, and opened the door on the side with flourish.   

"Wow," Estella gaped, truly impressed. She was shoved forward by the impatient fairy, before being picked up by the waist as if she were a child and deposited in the carriage. She turned to thank the fairy, or maybe to ask more questions, but the door was shut in her face.   

The fairy turned to its driver, a lesser fae currently in man shape, which stood at attention. "The distance between the manor and the castle is about an 'hour'. This one wants you to cut that in half, and have her back by three, but no earlier than twelve."   

The driver nodded, and climbed up to its seat. With a jerk of the reins, the carriage was speeding off. The fairy-godmother let out an airy giggle at the thump of a body being thrown by inertia sounded from inside the carriage as it pulled away. Humans were so silly. Who stood up in a moving vehicle?  


	2. A Woman of Simple Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Estella discovers that despite flavor of interactions she's had for the last decade, she actually kinda likes people? Strange.

Estella arrived at the ball at the last chime of the eight o’ clock bell. Her legs wobbled as she was helped out of the coach by the driver. She didn’t know that a person could feel so nauseous and so exhilarated at the same time. She was almost looking forward to the ride back.  

Then she looked up and saw the castle. She was transported into a whole new world.   

The Tremaine manor was not unimpressive. It was not the largest home, nor the most expensive, but it made for its perceivable short comings by being one of the more beautiful, if subtle manors in the kingdom. The garden alone was enough to base parties around. 

The royal castle was big, it was expensive, it was beautiful, it was not half so gaudy as it could have been. Seeing it at a distance, Estella wanted nothing more than to get close. To touch the red veins that constricted it, (a unique species of rose not found outside of the kingdom, she knew.) She wanted to get closer, to feel one of those rose's petals, to see the inside of the royal castle; she was greedy to experience all that it had to offer. But first she had to make it through the dense forest of people that might otherwise feel differently about the royal family throwing such a large and not doubt expensive celebration on the kingdom's dime were it not for the fact that the entire kingdom was invited. 

So instead, everyone had happily shown up. 

Estella had had every intention of making her way to the castle grounds, and then maybe even into the castle itself, but she was quickly side tracked by the smell of food. Baked goods, roasted meats, pungent spices that undoubtedly tasted better than they smelled. 

Kings and Queens were all well and good, but this was the kind of selection that she would never be able to experience again. And it was all free! 

Her mouth was watering just thinking about it, but where to start? Something light, for sure, if she wanted to sample everything. Something that she had never had before. Something so unnecessarily delicate and decadent that she might feel guilty about eating. 

Something like a chocolate rose. How tasteless. How delicious. 

But as the line that she had joined grew shorter, it seemed less likely that she would get one. They were going like flower-shaped, chocolate hotcakes. With every step Estella shuffled forward, her hope died a bit more. Less than a dozen left. Then seven, then three, and then before she had reached fifth in line, they were all gone. She let out a sigh not loud enough to cover up the person behind her cursing under their breath. 

But it was hard to stay disappointed for long. Estella shook it off; there was plenty of food around for her to enjoy. Things she had never tried before, things she had had, but never made by royalty sanctioned chefs. With a nod to herself, she moved. Her night had only just begun. 

“’Allo, excuse meh.” A mellow, lilting voice sounded loudly from around her shoulder. Estella stumbled away in surprise. “Och, didn’t mean to startle yeh.” 

Estella didn’t respond, simply blinking in surprise. Somehow it had never occurred to her that she might interact with people. In such a large crowd, it was easy to be alone. Someone was talking to her; a stranger was talking to _her_ , who from their perspective, was also a stranger. What could they possibly want? 

“Must of given yeh quite a fright.” The voice continued. It was coming from a short young woman with wavy, auburn, shoulder-length hair. She had the look and diction of a northerner, with ruddy cheeks. She wore a sea-green dress, empress style and made of real silk, so her family had to be wealthy. “Please accept my apologies.” 

Estella moved back as a hand was shoved at her face. In it held a rose. It was made of chocolate. “What?” 

“I mean. I was going to give it to yeh anyway. Yeh looked so sad, when they ran out.” The woman explained. “Girls like yeh should never be sad.” 

“Um, hello?” Estella felt a bit out of sort. How did people talk to each other when not just ordering someone to complete a task? Even on the occasions when her step-mother felt obligation to bring her to a party, no one spoke to her. She was something of a pariah in their family’s circle. She was never allowed to dress particularly well, and even when people were willing to overlook that, they were not able to overlook when Drizella and Lady Tremaine were suddenly quite vicious to them. 

“Yeesss. Hallooo.” The woman drew out the words with an amused smile. “Yeh are very pretty; would yeh like a flower?” 

Estella’s eyes were once again drawn to the flower. She really did want the flower. 

(She didn’t know it of herself, because it had never come up before, but Estella was rather vulnerable to delectation.) 

"Oh, thank you very much." Estella smiled, taking the flower. She wondered how rude it would be to immediately start eating it. With a mental shrug, she pulled off a petal and placed it on her tongue. Her input didn't seem to be needed as the young woman continued. 

"Meh name is Briar. " The woman offered. It was not an uncommon name. It was a more tasteful than call one's daughter Rose, more to the point than simply calling them by another flower name, and Estella had yet to meet anyone who dared name their child any rendition of Belle. Of course, when the paradigm of the name looked like her Majesty the Princess, it would be almost cruel to do so. "Meh father is a trader from the north." 

Estella nodded as enthusiastically as possible, letting the chocolate dissolve in her mouth. 

"What's yeh name, beautiful?" Briar asked. Beautiful? That was a little...much, to just say out loud like that. Estella felt strangely thrown off. Also, unsure how to answer. She thought about it as she swallowed. 

"You may call me Ashley." She stated simply and broke off another petal. Briar seemed to take that as some kind of indicator, because she suddenly stepped into Estella's space, and hooked the elbow that held the flower, before setting off in a direction only she knew. Estella let herself be directed. Perhaps this was just how people, or people at festivals, or daughters of traders at festivals acted. Besides, it was rather nice. Briar as warm. 

"So where are yeh from, Ashley?" Briar gave the name a underlying weight, rolling it on her tongue. 

"Huh." Estella felt coy. "Telling you would rather defeat the purpose of wearing a mask, now wouldn't it?" 

"Ooooh~!" Briar cooed, squeezing at Estella's arm. "How mysterious. I've come across such an interesting person. Lucky me." 

"If you say so." Estella said satisfied with the response, and leaned slightly to bite a petal off the rose. When she drew herself up, she saw Briar staring intently at chocolate in her hand. "Would you like a piece?" 

Briar looked up quickly, her face a little red. She said, stiltedly: "Um. No. Thank You." 

"Suit yourself." Estella said with mild disbelief. "So where are you taking me?" 

"Oh, well I simply must introduce yeh to meh friends." Briar pulled herself together. She grinned winningly. "And when I say meh friends, I mean we just met today, came together because our move-making parents had us arrive quite unfashionably early, and have spent the rest of the time until now feeling as if we had met every interesting person there was to meet before the party even started. And then I met yeh." 

"Well, have you met the guest of honour?" Estella asked, bemused. 

"Hmm?" Briar shrugged, dismissively. "Despite what meh father may have hoped, princes don't really interest meh." 

"I suppose I can see that." Estella looked sadly at her chocolate rose but figured she could wait until they made it to their destination. "It is hard enough just running a good-sized house. I could not imagine what running a kingdom would be like. Especially if the prince is anything like the king. Gods know, her Majesty Princess Belle is the only reason we've been doing so well." 

"How anyone could be married to such a woman and force her to spend a second of her life not being worshiped." Briar shook her head and only slightly playful despair, and Estella felt herself smile, charmed. "Truly, no man deserves her." 

"I don't know if the type of luck that gets you a woman like that is something you deserve." Estella observed. "It's something that just happens, and it is up to the receiver whether they hold on tight or not." 

Briar bit her lip, and after a pause, looked away. Her grip flexed and released. "That's true." 

Walked a bit longer, in silence. Briar intent on getting where she was going, Estella only distracted from her chocolate by the variety of other food that they passed. She was going to have to find to try it all, though she supposed it could wait until after she met Briar's friends. She had six days of unsupervised revel, after all. 

"Hey!" Briar called, waving her free arm high. "Sorry James, I completely forgot about your icicle, but I found something much better. A beautiful, mysterious woman, possibly up to no good." 

"But my icy," a woman's voice, James apparently, called out from a cluster of six or seven people, who had managed to commandeer a gazebo. 

"Forget your icicle." Another female voice said, stepping forward. She was wearing a cute, puffy dress: down just to her knees and white overlaid with blue floral-patterned lace. "I may have only known you for a few hours, but I somehow get the feeling that you kidnapped this woman, Briar." 

And those two lines managed to encapsulate what the rest of Estella time with this misfit group of up and coming young women and one man. Not a single one of whom turned out to be over eighteen. None of them were as short as Briar, but she seemed to be the leader. It was all very fast-pace and hard to follow banter, but she still enjoyed listening and occasionally being pulled in. It was interesting to have people wait with genuine interest for what she had to say. If this what having friends was like, Estella could certainly see the appeal. Even if it was exhausting. 

Especially when the group slowly started to grow. Complete strangers coming up to add something to whatever discussion they happened to be in. Yet no matter how many people came or went, Estella found it almost impossible to beg off, not even for food. Instead, someone ran off to get what she wanted. It was all growing to be very overwhelming. 

Only as a physical altercation was on the cusp of breaking out between Briar, (who was surprisingly confrontational), and a man the size of a bear, (but who had up until that point been very soft-spoken and even tempered,) did Estella manage to slip away. And then the bell tower clock attached of the castle struck twice. 

Estella cursed under her breath. She had wasted the whole night. The driver had told her to be back at the carriage by 2:30, and it was going probably going to take half an hour to get through the crowd and find the thing. She didn’t get to visit the castle, she hardly got to eat, and people had spent the entire time talking to her. Smiling at her. Hanging on her every word as if she had something particularly interesting to say. It was weird. 

Estella bent down and hitched up her voluminous dress, heedless of turning heads as her bare legs were exposed. With determined intent, she marched forward. 

She wasn’t too disappointed, because she knew that she would be coming back tomorrow. Estella smiled to herself. Tonight wasn’t so bad. Briar was nice. Maybe she would meet someone like the trader’s daughter at her new home. What a nice idea that Estella had never considered: she could have friends. 

It didn’t take her as long as she thought it might to get across the grounds. The crowd parted for her, some even nodding in her direction. Estella absently nodded back. It was only polite. 

She was so used to an unfettered path, it was almost a surprise when she had to stop. Her narrow route bottled before opening up into an empty circle, centered around a man. A young man, only a little older than Briar and her group. It was easy to understand why people were avoiding getting too close to him. 

He was beautiful. 

Estella was maybe 5’5” in her new leather booties, and even at a distance, it was apparent that he had nearly a foot on her, but he didn’t look gawky. His body was clearly developed beneath his rich clothes. His face was so pretty with his high cheek bones, long lashes and full lips, his silky, dark bangs framing it perfectly, it was almost disconcerting how unfeminine he looked. _The Good King be praised!_ It didn’t seem fair or reasonable that someone could be so effortlessly attractive. 

The man glanced up. Unsurprising, given that she was probably the only thing moving in his peripheral. He probably wasn’t even wearing make-up, and yet his face was so clear. Estella couldn’t look away as she continued forward. If this was what it was like to see this random man on the lawn, she didn’t think that she would survive even catching a glimpse of the queen. 

Estella tore her eyes away with great effort. Whoever knew there were such people in the world? Truly, tonight was a night of wonder and discovery. 

“Pardon me.” A deep, reverberating voice sounded above her head. She shifted away in alarm: this again? She flinched once more, as a large hand landed on her upper arm. Estella looked down at the broad palm and well-manicured fingers burning their shape into skin through her sleeve. 

Estella looked up and up, blinking in surprise. He was even prettier up close. His eyes were brown, and yet so bright and deep, it was like she was rediscovering the color. His eyebrows were thick, but perfectly shaped, with an arch that made him look roguish. He even had a cute little beauty on the left side of his chin. 

“I apologize for startling you.” The man continued. Estella could barely hear him over the sound of her own heart. All the practice she had gotten earlier talking to normal people was useless. Probably because this was no normal person. This man could not possibly be anything less than some kind of demi-god. 

Without a doubt, Estella knew: he was bad news.

Somewhat stiltedly, Estella shifted her body out of the man’s lingering hold. Keeping her gaze on some faraway point, she decided that it would be better to look a little rude, than to keep staring at his beauteous face like an idiot. It was bad enough that she still had not said anything. 

Instead, she was backing away, her eyes averted, arms held out in front of her as if the man was some sort of wild beast. Her sheer awkwardness was apparently disrupting the presence that had been keeping the crowd at bay. People were moving around her, and her discomfort at their brushing shoulders was over-powered by her relief as she lost sight of the man’s booted feet. 

A hand reached out through the crowd and wrapped around her wrist. Estella’s eyes snapped forward as she let out a squeak. 

“I would never imply that I was capable of reading minds, or go so far as to speak for you.” The man began. Despite the size difference, he was making the utmost eye contact; Estella found it unsettling. “Yet, I cannot help but feel that I am not forgiven. Did I offend you in some way?” 

“...” Distantly, Estella watched as she flexed her captured hand. The man’s eyes dropped, and he let go, effectively ending her out-of-body experience. 

“If so, I must request the opportunity to repair our relationship. I would hate to leave you with a bad first impression.” The man smiled, and managed to give a little head bow while maintaining their matched gazes. It was a little intimating. Who was this? “To that end, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Henri, and it has been my pleasure.” 

“Um.” Estella took a deep, calming breathe. It came out shaky. “I-I am, I - my name is... I mean...You can call me Ashley?” 

“Ashley.” Henri rolled it in his mouth. It didn’t seem to quite fit. “Hmm. And how might I regain your favor?...Ashley.” 

“Oh! You don’t need to do anything!” Estella said. Loudly. Then more quietly. “I’m not offended. You didn’t offend me. I just don’t...get out...much. If anything, I’m the one who’s leaving a bad impression.” 

“Hardly.” Henri stated, before cocking his head slightly. “Does this mean that I am forgiven?” 

“You don’t really need my forgiveness.” Estella explained, but was met only with expectantly notched eyebrows. “But if you want, I except your apology. You are forgiven.” 

“Excellent.” Henri smiled with closed eyes, bouncing on his heels a bit. 

Despite the innocence of the gesture, Estella felt discouraged. 

“Well. If that’s all, I really need to go now.” Estella began, stepping back, her hand tucked behind her. “It was very nice meeting you. Have a nice night?” 

“And you. I do hope that you will be returning for the rest of the festivities. It would be a shame to take advantage of only one night.” Henri only had a passing acquaintance in subtlety, it seemed. 

“One can live in hope.” Estella stated with a bright smile. She gave the younger man a nod and turned away. 

She was not running, that would be rather insulting, and Henri might find it necessary to beg her forgiveness again. She was walking briskly. She had been held up enough, and had to get home in time. Who knows what would happen if she was late? Or what her fairy godmother would do to her? 

_Elder Gods!_ Perhaps it was so that she had a previously undiscovered appreciation of people, but that didn’t mean that she was good with them. Estella, her hands coming up to her warm cheeks, didn’t take notice when people started stepping around her again. 

Still, all together, it hadn’t been such a bad night. In fact, it had been rather nice. If she was being honest, it was the best night Estella had had in nearly ten years. 

And this was just the beginning. 

Estella arrived at her coach giggling in sheer delight. The first night of the festival, and the beginning of the rest of her life. For the first time in a long time, Estella allowed herself to embrace a once distant hope, one that she had never allowed herself to linger one, that things could be better. Things would get better. She was driven home exhilarated at such thoughts, her new experiences, and the faster than possible ride. 

This was only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually trying to update this on a timeline. Like bi-weekly and shit. We'll see how that goes.

**Author's Note:**

> Perchance some of you are thinking, shouldn't I be doing something else. Perhaps something to do with the soulmates and shit. Maybe.
> 
> Well, clearly that's not what's going down, so...


End file.
